Happiest Place on Earth
by Ros3bud009
Summary: It is actually a certain attraction that my boss would like to attend.” Ivan settled onto the edge of the desk and paused before pulling his metal pipe from his jacket and placing it on the wood with a clank.


"America?" Russia asked innocently enough, peeking his head into the office without so much as knocking. The American groaned as he sat at his desk, head in his hands and elbows propped on the oddly clear wood surface. Usually his desk was covered with papers about governmental things, but with Russia and his boss visiting, he had been sure to bundle it all up. And then he had proceeded in hiding it in a box in the closet. Perhaps not the safest, but he thought that it seemed so obvious that the suspicious nation bouncing around his halls would never think he'd be so dense.

Or so he hoped.

That was not why he had groaned though. No. Alfred was tired already from all the scheduling and planning and discussing security measures that the Russian leader's visit had forced on him. He would have rather not spoken to anyone, let alone the nation who had been pestering him for the past few days.

"America, are you well?" Ivan now wondered into the office, hands behind him and his head tilted down and to the side. Was he really trying to pull the innocent, concerned friend shtick? Because if so, it wasn't going to work. Ever. Alfred lifted his eyes and landed the man with an exasperated look. There was a smile in return.

"Yes, I'm fine. Dandy. Fit as a fiddle. Ready to take on the world," America replied, pushing away from the desk and leaning back in his chair. He cocked an eyebrow at his guest. "Course, that last one fits _you_ better, doesn't it?"

Ivan snorted softly, shaking his head. "Now, there is no need to be hostile, da? We are visiting in peace, to see your country for ourselves. That is all."

"Yeah. Right."

"Good to see you understand," Russia responded, choosing to ignore the bitter sarcasm that dripped from his host's very pores. "Now, I am in fact here on some business that I would like to discuss with you."

"No. Really?"

"Da. It is actually a certain attraction that my boss would like to attend." Ivan settled onto the edge of the desk and paused before pulling his metal pipe from his jacket and placing it on the wood with a clank. America couldn't help jumping a little in his seat, eyeing the devise warily. How had the security missed such an obvious weapon? The Russian noted the shock on the nation's face, and laughed. "Ah, no need to be so fearful. It was simply not comfortable to sit with it in my coat. I hope you do not mind if I put it there. Your desk certainly didn't seem to be occupied by anything else."

"Ah, yeah, no problem." Alfred sat up straight, trying to smile back in hopes of hiding his fear, but ending up with an even worse off half-smile that simply couldn't decide where to be. Dropping into a darker smirk, Russia leaned across the desk, moving his face in close. His breath was icy on America's skin

"Now, your closet, that is quite another story, is it not America?"

Alfred felt his blood run cold. Ivan laughed at him.

"Do not worry, I saw that it was occupied with important things, so I left it alone," Russia assured, pulling away to sit up straight again. "It would be rude to riffle through a host's things, would it not?"

That smile was unreadable, which made America only squirm more. He would have considered socking the Russian in the face had he not been told time and again to treat their guests nicely. It simply wasn't fair that he had to be "nice" while Ivan had the full range of dickish moves at his disposal. Dammit.

"Right… anyway, you had something you wanted, right?"

Russia nodded. "You were always one to get right down to business, which is I suppose one of the few things I like about you, America." There was no bitterness is his voice, but this seemed to only make the words all the more so. "As I was saying before, my boss has a certain place that he wanted so dreadfully to go to while he was here. But he just informed me that he was told he could not go. I'm sure that there must be something that has not been understood, because I don't see why he could not…"

Alfred sat thinking, and with no little regret asked, "Shit, you don't mean you're here about…?"

"Yes, I am," Ivan stated innocently. "Disneyland."

With a great groan of exasperation Alfred jumped from his chair and threw his hands in the air. "Goddammit, if we've told him once we've told him a million times, we _can't_ take him to Disneyland. Period. There's no debate in this, case closed, no can do."

"I'm afraid that this debate is not closed," Russia countered, not moving but rather still smiling easily. "I do not see why he cannot."

"Because he's the goddamn leader of the Soviet Union, that's why!" America cried. "This is America he's in, and in case you guys didn't notice, we don't like you much. If we let him go to a public place that's as large as Disneyland, and what with all the possible vantage points to snipe your boss from… Fuck, Russia, we just can't let Khrushchev get his head blown off in our country, let alone in Disneyland!"

"Do you have such little control over your people that you can't simply close it off to the public for that day?"

"Oh, yeah, right, I'm going to tell all those people who come to the gates for their day at Disneyland that they may have had planned for _months_, 'Oh, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that you can't visit the Happiest Place on Earth because the leader of those fuckin' Reds we hate decided to have breakfast with Mickey.'" Alfred found himself pacing behind his desk, throwing his arms about haphazardly. "We _can't _close it for him. People would blow a goddamn gasket and the media would have a fucking heyday. Seriously Russia, I can't even… shit," he cursed, finally just dropping his hands at his sides and finally looking to face the other nations.

"Look… we want you guys to have a good time here." Russia seemed unable to stop himself from lifting a brow at that. America groaned and moved to stand in front of where the larger nation sat perched on his desk. "Dammit I'm being serious right now. There's no point in pissing you guys off while you're here. The happier you bastards leave, the better for us."

"Then let him visit your Disneyland."

"But we can't! That's the whole point!" Alfred paused and sighed tiredly. "If we were to let Khrushchev visit Disneyland, it would spell nothing but bad news for us. If we have it open to the public and he's assassinated, we're fucked. If we close it and tell the public we closed it for his sake, we're fucked."

"So… this is about what is good for you, da?" Ivan clarified, eyeing the American with a blank expression on his face. Alfred stiffened.

"I… well, shit, what else can I say?" He combed his hand through his hair, looking away from the penetrating stare. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Ivan ruminated for a moment, holding his fist to his lips and investigating the American's face. The silence reigned strong, yet Alfred was almost afraid to breathe; what if it were loud enough to break the silence? What lay beyond that silence was a mystery, and could easily have been all the more fearsome.

However, after that moment, Russia grinned broadly, and lightly traced his bottom lip. He sucked on the very tip of it briefly. It was most certainly what Alfred would consider a sensual gesture, and as such gulped silently as Ivan finally removed his hand.

"Very well, I can understand that. All it means is that I must reimburse you for your trouble, da?" America started as Russia was suddenly on his feet, hands at the collar of his shirt and pulling. A curse or two tumbled from his mouth as the hands then turned him and pushed against his chest, ending with his rear meeting the desk's edge. Ivan smirked at his bewildered face before moving his mouth to the American's ear, whispering, "I am sure I can think of _something_…"

America felt like he had literally jumped out of his skin as something hot and moist invaded his ear. He pushed back against the large chest leaning into him as he shouted, "Wha-what the hell?! Get _OFF_!"

"Mmm… but you wanted something in return, did you not?" Ivan practically purred, chuckling deeply at the shiver that raced through his host. He grabbed onto the hands on his chest, pulling them above his shoulders – with some difficulty as the American fought him – before leaning in, crushing Alfred's body against the desk. Hideous curses burst from America's lips before they too were crushed beneath the Russian's mouth.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"America?" Alfred could not help the twitch in his eye as he pointedly did _not _look up at the man peering into his office. Instead he continued flipping through the files on his desk – which he pulled from his closet if for nothing but to have something to do – before finally slamming them shut when he heard Ivan's footsteps coming closer. "I am sorry to bother you, as I am sure you are tired from yesterday…"

"No." Russia blinked slowly at the American's head, still bowed down as he refused to look upon the other's meaningless smile.

"No… no you are not tired?" Ivan ventured to guess. "Because if that is so, then I wasn't thorough with my reimbursement. I would be happy to try again, if you will just be so kind as to get on the desk--"

"No!" Now Alfred looked up, his teeth gritted but ultimately offset by the red-ish ting on his cheeks. "That is _not _what I meant."

"Then… are you still saying no?" Russia asked, his smile never leaving his face but his eyes flickering dangerously. But it didn't matter. America had steeled himself for this. There was no turning back.

"That is what I'm saying. Khrushchev is not going to Disneyland. Period."

"But I have already reimbursed you, da? So how could you go back on our terms?"

"What terms? I don't remember _ever _consenting to being fucked up the ass as 'reimbursement,'" Alfred practically snarled, glaring at his guest with every bit of hatred he could wile up. Which, he assumed, was no little amount. "Next time you try 'reimbursing' someone, maybe you should think about the fact that usually they'll prefer to fuck you, not get _fucked_ by you."

Ivan couldn't help smirking, looking at Alfred in a way he did _not _appreciate. "Funny. You did not seem to mind yesterday when I, as you say, 'fucked' you here on this very desk."

At that, Alfred's glower and the red tint of his cheeks competed to see which could deepen the most.

"No. He's not going."

Shrugging his shoulders and sighing softly, Russia turned and started towards the door. America was about to finally relax back into his chair when the older nation turned his head. "Oh, and America?"

Alfred didn't answer.

"Since you are so good at your own language, I'm sure this was merely an oversight on your behalf, but I believe you used the wrong 'there' on page 36 of the second report. It is very difficult, since there are three, so do not worry. It's an easy mistake." He smiled smugly before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

Alfred sat perfectly still, before flipping through the file again.

"…fuck."

HISTORY NOTE:

In September of 1959 Khrushchev visited the U.S. during the Eisenhower administration. While visiting California, he wanted to visit Disneyland, but was told he couldn't for security reasons. It has been noted as the low point of his trip to the U.S.


End file.
